”Rifle turned around.“Would you be interested in coming up to our room for a nightcap?”Rifle shrugged but put his room key back in his pocket.We... came closer. “Our room is up there, number 21,” he said, pointing to the second floor in the general direction of his room. “Do you drink Scotch? I’ve got some Cutty.”“Yeah,” Rifle said, in answer to the second question, which also answered the first.They went toward the stairs with Denny tailing along behind. Rifle noted the room was much like his. With her head held up bythe noose around it, and her wrist shackles linked to her collar, she was helplessto use her hands to defend herself, or hold up the dishes. The next moment,tears gave way to screams as she felt the first stroke of the cat on her back.She couldn't bear it, she couldn't… "Please, Master Ryan!" she screamedin agony as the second stroke laid open her back again. "Please, please, takeit all, I don't want it, I swear I don't want it, you can't do this to me,I'll die, take it. More

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